


The Bed We Loved In was a Spinning World

by amo-amas-amat (amoama)



Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Mansfield Park - Jane Austen
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoama/pseuds/amo-amas-amat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An afternoon by the lake - for one day Mary and Fanny are the masters of Mansfield Park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bed We Loved In was a Spinning World

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Carol Anne Duffy's poem, 'Anne Hathaway'. 
> 
> For Bring Back the Porn 2015 on IJ.
> 
> Massive thank you to Aldiara for the excellent beta help!

It was Mary Crawford’s sincere belief that there was only one reason a woman could resist falling in love with her brother (and she rarely allowed herself to be wrong on such matters). In Mary’s much esteemed, and oft-solicited opinion, the only way a woman could withstand the advances of a man of Mr Henry Crawford’s calibre and charm was if she were immune to men altogether. 

These women were found, but rarely, in the society of the Crawfords, but when they were, Mary rather celebrated them, intrigued by their stubborn resilience to social condemnation and their steadfast preference for spinsterhood. This, indeed, was her conclusion regarding the peculiarly impressive Fanny Price. 

From the first Mary had resolved herself to be kind to Fanny for she seemed a particularly feeble sort of girl but much the preferable friend to the countrified grotesqueries of Maria and Louisa Bertram. Girls that Mary could diagnose at half a mile’s distance to be classic Henry-fodder. 

Fanny, though. Fanny was a challenge. Soft-bodied but strong-minded. Mary would have wagered they were of a match for determination. For while Fanny refused to do anything but what was good, Mary refused to do anything but what she wanted. 

It presented a series of problems that Mary, as she was obliged for the time being to remain with her Aunt in Northamptonshire, was disposed to apply herself to. She must befriend Fanny who seemed to believe that both Crawfords were devil-sent to torment her. She must tease out her interest, awaken her senses, foster her desires, all without appearing to be leading her astray. She would have to be above reproach herself so as not to earn Fanny’s early disdain - her brother’s mistake. It would take time but there was something, some knowing glint in Fanny’s watchful eye that provoked Mary and made her eager to get under Fanny’s skin. 

*

For her part, Fanny’s feelings when in Miss Crawford’s presence were predominantly those of the utmost discomfort and discomposure. Miss Crawford’s attention was sharp and far too comprehending for Fanny’s liking, accustomed as she was to being forgotten. Fanny was too used to being the observer and diviner of secrets to enjoy being instead the observed. She found herself unsure how to behave, how to sit, where to look, for fear of Miss Crawford’s clever eyes gathering up further information about Fanny Price. She blushed continuously and saw how it delighted Miss Crawford. She found herself walking faster and more energetically on outings where Miss Crawford was present, keen to be perceived as healthy and vivacious. She rode, she believed, as carefully as ever, but for longer, and with more pleasure, because it was a pleasure to ride over Mansfield with a lady who took to the saddle as enthusiastically as Miss Crawford and whose laugh reached her over the breeze, teasing her onwards. 

*

It was on one of those afternoon rides that they stopped at the summer house at the far end of Mansfield’s long lake to rest a little. Most of the inhabitants of the big house were away on one errand or another; only Lady Bertram remained with Mrs Norris in attendance. Neither would trouble themselves to look for Fanny, although she could be sure of a reprimand from Mrs Norris if it occurred to them to want her for something while she was out.

For once, though, Fanny didn’t think of that. Her mind was far too pleasantly engaged taking in how the soft colours of the afternoon reflected on the water and how it fitted so well with the fine melody Miss Crawford was humming. Her skills as a harpist were fine indeed and Fanny always appreciated hearing her play, but her voice was so refined when she accompanied herself like that. Out here in the gardens, surrounded by the wild flowers allowed to grow in this part of the grounds, she sang less technically, loose and free with her voice in response to the wilderness around her. 

“I love to hear you sing here,” Fanny told her, honestly. 

“Thank you, Fanny,” Miss Crawford interrupted herself to say, “I don’t know what it is but I feel so peaceful all of a sudden. So happy with life as it is.”

“Yes,” Fanny agreed, “I do know what you mean. Mansfield is a good place for that kind of quiet satisfaction. Today, I mean.”

“You mean, without the others, I suppose?” Miss Crawford asked, and Fanny found she could not answer without seeming disloyal. “I’ll tell you what it is,” Miss Crawford continued when Fanny did not answer, “It is that today Mansfield Park belongs to us, you and me. The ones who will never own it and yet both long to find our home here. Today it is ours.”

Fanny blushed, unsettled again by the forthright nature of Miss Crawford.

“Today I am Mary and you are Fanny and this is our house and our land and our lake,” Miss Crawford said, taking Fanny’s hands. “We can ride, we can swim, we can dance. We are at our leisure to enjoy ourselves. What shall we do first?”

It was a question but Mary was already answering, turning them about the garden in a modern-style waltz. Mary had learnt it from the Russian ambassador’s wife herself. Fanny stumbled a little but kept up quite well, and they were soon breathless from twirling in each other’s arms. They fell down together in a little heap on the sun-warmed grass. Mary drew Fanny into her arms, and Fanny, feeling giddy, went willingly.

She lay with her head on Mary’s chest, rising and falling with it, while Mary stroked her hair. Fanny knew they were both smiling. It was a strange feeling to be so cared for and enjoyed. She remembered how carelessly she had fallen about with her brothers and sisters back in Portsmouth. There was no one who had held her like this since then and she could barely remember who it would have been that held her then anyway. Surely her mother was always too busy and had too many smaller children to care for. 

Lying in the still grass, she was so aware of Mary’s body beneath hers, and felt so cosy and coddled wrapped up in her like this. Mansfield is mine, she thought, a whisper of that naughty delight teasing her spirit. Just for today, it is ours. 

“Fanny,” Mary said lightly, after a while.

“Yes?” Fanny responded, pushing her head up a little to show she was listening. She had almost been asleep. Asleep! On Miss Crawford! What a strange day this was. 

“Fanny, today, while Mansfield is ours alone. I have decided I shall love you,” Mary declared. 

“You do? I mean, you shall?” Fanny asked, mystified. 

“Yes!” Mary asserted. “I tell you honestly it is only for today but it is love nonetheless for that.” 

“That... seems reasonable,” Fanny politely assured her.

Mary smiled down at Fanny for a moment, and then shifted swiftly onto her side, sliding a little down the bank, her body a sudden heat flanking Fanny. 

“Let me tell you how I love you, let me show you, so you will know, later, when you need to, what it looks like, truly, when someone is in love with you.” 

Fanny was unsure that she would ever be in that position. She was certain she had thrown away her only opportunity for marriage when she had declined to marry Henry Crawford. And now here was his callous, self-centred sister lying beside her, requesting such a boon. It was a much more honest proposal than Henry had ever put forward, however. It was a thing that could only exist on a day like today, in weather such as this, under a sky as clear as this one. Already its memories would feed Fanny’s thoughts for weeks, if not months, as she tidied away bundles of Mrs Norris’s yarn and read to Lady Bertram. It was hard to find a reason to deny herself just one day of love. It did not feel wrong to her and so it could not be so. It had been hard-won over the last weeks and months but she trusted her own judgement.

“Yes,” she whispered, and then louder, determined, “yes.” 

*

Mary’s heart soared at Fanny’s acquiescence. In itself it was a wonderful thing, but the additional pleasure of succeeding where her brother had failed fuelled her delight even further. I understand her, Mary thought, I understand her where all the others who live in or visit this house have failed. She smiled down at Fanny, who looked patient and open lying beneath her. “This is how I love you,” Mary murmured and then she moistened her lips and pressed them down upon Fanny’s. 

“A sweet kiss to start,” she said, and then moved one hand to Fanny’s face, smoothed back the curls around her face. 

“I keep my eyes on you at all times and I want you more than anything,” she told Fanny, pleased to see her eyes widen. 

“I kiss you a little longer now and let you feel how charged I am by my desire.” She did so. 

“And now I shall touch my tongue to your lips and hope desperately that your mouth will open under mine and I can taste you.” She moved in again, kissed Fanny lightly and drew her tongue along her top lip, revelling in the slight quiver she felt. Fanny’s mouth drifted open and her chin tipped up. 

“You are so inviting, my dear,” Mary told her before sealing their mouths together once more and this time slowly sliding her tongue between Fanny’s lips. 

*

Fanny felt feverish in response to Mary’s words and kisses. The weight of her all down Fanny’s side, leaning into her and over her. Her world had shrunk to just Mary and the sensations of her body. Mary kept talking, preparing her for her every move; the words seemed to alert her body to the sensation of Mary’s touch seconds before it happened. Every caress was heightened by that moment of anticipation. She felt so treasured as Mary slowly unwrapped the secrets of their bodies. Fanny longed to respond and then realised that she might do so; she lifted her arm and traced her hand down Mary’s side and then up over her back. “You feel so wonderful,” she told Mary and saw how her words pleased Mary. 

“Thank you, Fanny,” she said, “You are a fast learner, I see.” 

Fanny nodded. “Yes, that’s true. I had a slow beginning, you see. I am always playing catch-up.” 

“You’ve caught me,” Mary assured her playfully.

“I don’t know how!”

“No, I don’t suppose you do. And I shan’t tell you, as that might spoil it.” 

Fanny wasn’t sure what she meant but Mary distracted her with another kiss. “Let us just enjoy one another today,” Mary said, and Fanny agreed, her mouth already seeking out Mary’s again. She was beginning to feel a pressure throughout her body that she did not know how to contain and yet she did not know how to satisfy it either.

“Mary,” she said, “I want, I don’t know, don’t let’s stop now.”

“No,” Mary said, “We won’t stop now. I’m going to put my hands on you now, Fanny, between your legs and I am going to touch the very centre of you. Do you allow it?”

“Yes, yes, please do.”

“Move a little, yes, that’s right, are you sure you are ready and comfortable?”

Fanny could only nod her encouragement and wonder at Mary’s gentlemanly solicitousness. She was so knowing and Fanny so known, finally, suddenly, so well understood. She felt a moment of vertigo as her world upended itself. Mary’s fingers slid over her most private parts. She moved them only gently but they sent out surges of energy throughout her body. Her head swam and she sensed that all her nerves were tingling and all her blood was rushing around her body twice as fast as usual. Her heart was beating so heavily. Mary’s fingers slipped inside of her and it hurt a little and then it didn’t. Her hips responded of their own accord; she did not give them any command but they rose and fell and she clasped at Mary’s fingers, trying to keep them inside of her. The pressure within her built and built and she knew a moment’s clarity when the world stopped and she saw herself from above, flushed, hair tumbled, skirts bunched at her waist, Mary atop her. She was amazed at herself and then her heart stopped and restarted itself and she was calling out, her body journeying through a storm of sensations too fast for her to chart. She came back to herself as she had never been before. All her limbs were alive, every part of her felt so happy and satisfied. She looked into Mary’s eyes and saw her joy reflected back at her. 

“There now,” Mary said, “Now you know.” 

“Yes!”

“Can you do the same for me?” Mary asked her, already guiding Fanny’s willing hand between her legs. 

“Here, that’s right. Rub as gently as you can for now.” Mary felt wet between her thighs and Fanny moved her fingers blindly where Mary directed her.

“There, yes, where it feels a little rougher, that’s good. That’s the best bit. Yes, Fanny, that’s so good.” Fanny moved her fingers a little faster, pressed more confidently, determined to give Mary the same pleasure she had experienced. Mary moved herself up and down on Fanny’s fingers, laughed breathlessly as she slowly pressed them inside her. Fanny let herself be used, trying her best to support Mary. Mary brought Fanny’s other hand to her breast.

“Here, Fanny, hold me here.” Fanny tried to move her hands as tenderly as Mary had, to show her with her touch how much she appreciated her. Mary sighed loudly, again and again, responding to every movement Fanny made. Her body was a wave, lapping at the beach, as she moved over Fanny. Then she crested and Fanny felt with a shock how tightly Mary held her fingers inside her, quivering and clenching fast and firm. Her eyes were closed and her chest and head were thrown up and back and she cried out joyously. 

“Yes,” she said, “Oh Fanny, what a wonder you are.” 

Fanny didn’t know how to respond, so she kept stroking over Mary’s breasts and bodice until Mary pulled herself off Fanny and collapsed next to her on the grass. 

“Are you happy, Fanny,” she asked after a while.

“Yes, I believe so,” Fanny told her. 

“I’m so glad we became friends,” Mary said, “And I’m so happy to have had today.”

“Yes,” Fanny said. “And I. I’m so glad.”

“Shall we swim then?” Mary suggested, all energy again all of a sudden, “I am frightfully sticky and we must have some excuse for returning to the house looking like this!”

Fanny supposed that was so. The water would be so cold, though. She gave Mary a dubious look.

“Fanny, we must! Come on, you know the boys swim in here all the time. It’s perfectly safe and today it is all ours!”

She started to throw off her muslin entirely and she stood before Fanny in glorious disarray.

For once, Fanny knew, she wouldn’t be able to resist. She let Mary pull her up and help her get rid of what was left of her outfit. They joined hands then and smiled at each other, Mary delighted and Fanny bemused. Together they ran to the lake.


End file.
